


Do I Dazzle You, My Darling?

by CosmoKid



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, And so do I, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Carlisle Says Fuck, Charlie Swan Needs a Hug, I Swear My Writing Is Normally Better Than This, I apologise to everyone, M/M, Masters and Johnson AU, Meet-Cute, Pre-Slash, The Author Regrets Everything, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 15:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19748995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmoKid/pseuds/CosmoKid
Summary: It would probably be impolite if he asked if he still gets the money if he withdraws so he decides against it, following her in an uncomfortable silence, filled only with his incessant thoughts about this being a terrible idea.Those thoughts are silenced however when he sees the man waiting for him on the other side of the door because sweet Jesus, the man is attractive and exactly his type. And no, Esme, his type is not just any man who smiles at him.The first thing he notices is the man’s dark brown eyes, followed by a chiseled jawbone and harsh eyebrows. He’s all sharp angles, but the scruff around his mouth and jaw softens it and Carlisle can just imagine how that beard burn would feel on his skin.Maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea.in which the author reimagines carlisle cullen as a disaster twink in college and regrets their entire life up to and including this point





	Do I Dazzle You, My Darling?

**Author's Note:**

> the fuck do i tag this mess? 
> 
> also this is like first draft with limited editing because like im not gonna but that much effort into this because listen, im writing a twilight fanfic in 2019, let me keep at least the slither of dignity i have left. the beginning of way too long and i could definitely rewrite it to be shorter and more concise but i just dont want to so eh
> 
> btw stephenie, your characters are named stupidly and i kept spelling carlisle wrong this entire time. my character choices were probably weird as fuck but like life and death can be the new canon i dont give a fuck why did i write a twilight fic in 2019 rachael why do you do this just gain some impulse control please
> 
> also a lot of this was written whilst i marathoned the texas chainsaw massacre series so uh take that as you will
> 
> this mess led me to sending the phrase "im sure mormon housewife stephenie meyer will appreciate me interpreting her very cishet accomplished doctor man as a twink" to a discord server (a the 100 gays discord server to be exact) and also i made a playlist to listen to whilst writing this called effervescented candles. idk how spotify works but if someone for some reason wants to see it, explain how it works to me and you can ahfdbhsahg

The Decamp-Wilson building looms over him, casting a dark shadow over most of South Campus. He bites his lip and stares up at it. Before now, he’d just thought it was little more than ugly grey cube on campus, but looking at it now, it feels like some malevolent testing facility. It’s like he’s about to walk into some secret government experiment that will bring him a soulless clone or something.

He shakes his head, trying to shake the ridiculous thoughts and anxieties out of his head with the motion. Dragging his hand down his face, he swallows around the lump in his throat and checks his watch: he’s still got ten minutes.

Maybe Esme was right and this is a terrible idea. Sure, he could definitely use an extra five-hundred dollars and sure, it would definitely be nice if he could afford to eat something besides pasta, but he’s been living off of pasta and noodles for a year now. He can manage it. It’s not like he has _that many_ years of medical school left and sure, you can’t get a balanced diet with just noodles and pasta but he can try. 

Oh, who is he kidding? He needs those five-hundred dollars.

He closes the distance between him and the building, pushing the door open. The metal handle is cold in his hand, sending a small shiver down his spine. He takes a deep breath and steps into the building. 

It feels like it’s against his better judgment, but in hindsight, applying to medical school was against his better judgment so it’s not like he can dig himself a deeper hole than the one he's currently sat in. He’s already in the Grand Canyon of terrible decisions; what’s one more pothole?

For a few seconds, he just takes in the interior of the building. Who decided red should be the unifying color in the décor? It’s so harsh on the eyes and really does add to the malicious vibe the building already gives off. Nothing says welcome like blood red _everything._

“You must be Carl.”

“Isle,” he corrects and blinks. He looks to where the voice came from, a smiling woman coming into focus. He breathes out, “It’s Carlisle.”

She pushes her dark hair behind her ear and nods, “Of course, I’m Heidi. You’re here for the experiment with Dr. Sulpicia and Dr. Athenodora?”

“Uh,” he says, silver tongue turning to lead. He signed up for this experiment at two in the morning after two of Tanya’s signature cocktails and at least seven shots of whatever the fuck Alistair drinks, he could not try to remember the names of the experimenters if he tried. “Yeah.”

“Great,” Heidi says and nods again. Her hair is an odd color, the word _mahogany_ coming to mind to describe it. He imagines that if he wasn’t a very gay man, he’d be attracted to her, but alas, his type is much closer to gruff voices and beards than pretty women… or just women in general. “If you’ll just follow me, I’ll take you through to the lab. You’ll have a few consent forms and information sheets to read through and sign, and then you’ll be prepared for the experiment. The electrodes will be put on by a fellow student if that’s okay?”

She says it as if he might have an objection. He doesn’t; he really does need those five-hundred dollars. He shrugs, “That’s uh fine.”

“Perfect,” she tells him, grinning wide and bright. “Mele is perfectly qualified to do it so there’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”

 _I’m about to have electrodes put on me and have sex with a random stranger for your science experiment, but no there’s nothing to worry about_ , he thinks and then reminds that he needs those five-hundred dollars. He can have a nice lasagne tonight and god, he’s missed food that has nutritional benefit or just food that tastes edible.

It’s no different to a one-night stand, right? He’s had plenty of those, they were all fine. It’s not like one of those is the reason his father kicked him out and why he can barely make rent. 

He shakes his head again, he’s overthinking all this. It’ll be fine, he’ll be fine, everything will be fine. It’s fine, all of it. It’s all fine and perfectly normal and just another day in the life of Carlisle Cullen. It’s fine.

Fuck, maybe this is a bad idea.

Still, his entire life is a series of bad ideas masquerading as great ones. He can bluff his way through another one. 

She leads him through to a smaller room, handing him a whole myriad of consent forms to read through and sign as she rattles off all the information on the sheets herself, effectively rendering the information sheets useless. 

Before he’s even read the first line of the first form, he knows that it’s a replication of an earlier study by Masters and Johnson and that they’re investigating whether the body’s physical reactions to sexual arousal has been affected by societal change. The words mostly wash over him. He’s read consent forms before; he’s a broke college student, signing up for sketchy experiments is practically a hobby at this point. 

As soon as he’s signed the last form, Heidi collects them and ushers him out and through a maze of hallways, all decorated with red carpets and red walls and red doors because of course. It’s like he’s in a human trafficking scheme set in the Overlook Hotel. His heart is going like a jackhammer by the time she finally deposits him in a lab. 

If he thought he’d get a second to breathe, he’s wrong as the researcher, who he assumes must be the student Heidi told him about, begins to explain the electrodes and that whole procedure. He does his best to look like he’s listening and lets her get on with it. It’s unfortunate that she decides to not forego small talk as he’d thought she would.

He’s been told in the past that he’s quite charming and that he’s a smooth-talker, though Esme would probably slap him around the head if he claimed it himself. It’s much harder, however, to be charming and suave or even seem like a functioning member of a society when someone is attaching electrodes to you and you’re acutely aware that they’re going to be used to read your body’s information whilst you have sex with a random person. 

She introduces herself as Mele about five times before he finally catches onto it and introduces himself, tripping over his own name. 

“Carlisle Cullen?” she repeats and quirks a brow. “Interesting name.”

He smiles, doing his best to not look uneasy, “My Father was a big fan of Silent Scream, but didn’t know how to spell Robert Carlyle’s name when I was born, clearly. Unfortunately, it’s not a name that gets you street cred in middle school.”

She lets out a small laugh which reassures him that he’s not about to totally humiliate himself. “Try being called Mele. You’d think my Mother was a crackhead.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed a big fan of melon, but I’m sure crackhead is just as viable of an explanation.”

“Actually, she was allergic to watermelon,” she tells him and he has no idea if she’s making it up. His eyebrows furrow, he’s normally good at telling whether or not someone is lying. “And I think we’re done here so I’ll take you through to the room over and you’ll meet your partner, if you’re ready, of course.”

 _I’m about as ready as raw chicken_ he thinks and nods, “Okay.”

“Okay,” she says, motioning for him to stand up and follow her into the other room. “You can take as long as you want to complete the procedure and you’re able to withdraw from the study at any point, including after it is completed. The contact details for the researchers is on the information sheet and you can just email and ask for your data to be removed if you desire.”

It would probably be impolite if he asked if he still gets the money if he withdraws so he decides against it, following her in an uncomfortable silence, filled only with his incessant thoughts about this being a terrible idea.

Those thoughts are silenced however when he sees the man waiting for him on the other side of the door because sweet Jesus, the man is attractive and exactly his type. And no, Esme, his type is not just any man who smiles at him.

The first thing he notices is the man’s dark brown eyes, followed by a chiseled jawbone and harsh eyebrows. He’s all sharp angles, but the scruff around his mouth and jaw softens it and Carlisle can just imagine how that beard burn would feel on his skin. 

Maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea.

Mele’s cheery voice interrupts his thoughts, but he keeps his eyes on the man in front of him as he listens to her, “I’ll leave you two to introduce yourself and uh, well, get on with it.”

He listens out for when the door closes before he steps closer to the man and holds out his hand, “I’m Carlisle.”

“Charlie,” the man says, shaking his hand and holy Christ, he has a strong grip. “So uh, how do we uh start this thing?”

He blinks, not expecting the man to seem so nervous. “Um, I suppose we should decide who’s going to top?”

“Right,” Charlie says and the single word is so full of nerves that Carlisle is sure he could build a brain out of it.

“So any preference?” he asks, licking his lips. 

Charlie stares at him for a few seconds before he shrugs. Carlisle shrugs in response, feeling more awkward by the second. If he was a prouder man, he wouldn’t admit that he was hoping to get railed by this guy the second he saw him, but he’s not and he was. Now, he’s not so sure.

He swallows, “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Charlie says in a rushed voice which does nothing to reassure him. After several seconds, Charlie drags his hand through his hair and sighs. “I just, I haven’t done this before.”

The logical conclusion to draw would be that Charlie hasn’t taken part in a sex experiment, but somehow, Carlisle knows he means he hasn’t ever been with another man, or at least not one who also has a dick. That complicates things a bit, mostly because of how nervous Charlie looks.

He takes a second to breathe. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want-”

“No, no, I want to.”

“Okay,” he says and reaches up to scratch his nose. “Well uh, it might be easier if you uh top then. If it’s your first time bottoming, it can be a little painful.”

Charlie’s eyes go wide, “Painful?”

He shakes his head and drags his hand down his face. “Not painful, well, kind of. As long as you do enough preparation, it’s not painful, but if you’re not used to it, it might feel weird. I just feel like if you want to try that, maybe now isn’t the best situation to try it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I,” Charlie starts, but stops himself and turns around, putting his hands on his head. 

“Are you okay?” Carlisle asks carefully. He wants to reach out and put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder or something, but he met this guy approximately five minutes ago and they’re meant to be fucking for science, not consoling one another.

“I,” Charlie says and then lets out another sigh. He turns back around. “I’m sorry, man, I just, I thought I could do this, but I just, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize,” he says in a soft voice and this time, he does reach out. Though he immediately stops and tries to make it look like he was doing it to smooth his hair over.

Charlie shakes his head. “No, it’s just, I… see, my wife, I uh, half a year ago, my wife left me. In the middle of the night, she just up and left.”

He stares at Charlie for a few seconds waiting for him to tell him it’s a prank or something, but the moment never comes. “I’m so sorry, that’s, I’m sorry Charlie.”

“I could take it, you know? If she just left?” Charlie continues and he’s angry now, Carlisle can see it in his eyes. Charlie lets out a huff and shakes his head, “It’s just, I thought she’d understand you know? But she just didn’t! Just like every-fucking-one else.”

Carlisle doesn’t speak, just watches. He’s not sure if Charlie is even aware who he’s talking to. He probably just needs to get it out. Something about Charlie tells him that he’s not the kind of guy that in touch with his feelings. 

“She just,” Charlie starts and trails off for a few seconds, letting out a sigh and putting his hands on his head again. “You know, I sat her down I told her that I thought I was, that I _was_ bisexual, and she uh, she looked at me, she looked me in the eye, _she looked me in the fucking eye_ and she said _you’re gay, of course, you are, I should have known_ and I, I tried to say something to you know, reassure her, but she just kept talking about how it’s okay that I was gay and she supports the gays and that she knows a divorce lawyer that will give her better rates and all this and I kept trying to tell her, _Renée, I’m bisexual, I still love you and I’m still attracted to you_ , but she just, she didn’t listen. And then in the morning, she was gone. She was go-”

Charlie cuts off, a sob escaping him. Carlisle blinks and then against his better judgment, he takes a step forward and opens his arms, giving Charlie the option. Charlie’s arms are wrapped around him in milliseconds and Carlisle hugs him tight. For a second, he wonders how he’s ended up in this situation and then he shoves that thought away to focus on the sobbing man in his arms. He begins to murmur things about it being okay and to just let it all out.

They stand there for a few minutes until Charlie’s sobs finally stop and he pulls away entirely. Carlisle lets him, but doesn’t step back. 

“I’m sorry, man-” Charlie starts, but Carlisle cuts him off.

“Don’t be,” he says in a firm voice, “You don’t have to apologize for having feelings.”

Charlie stares at him for a few seconds before he nods in a jerky motion, “Right.”

“It gets better, I promise,” he tells him and Charlie just looks at him with disbelief written clearly on his face. He takes a deep breath, letting the words he’s said too many times while drunk materializes in his mind, “Christmas before last, I was home for winter break and my uh, my Father, he was meant to be away for a few days on a hunting trip with his friends. So you know, I thought that I’d be safe to bring some guy back. I should have been more careful, you know? I always had been before.”

He pauses to catch his breath, chewing on his lip. He drags his hand through his hair and tries to relax his shoulder. He’s told this story plenty of times now, but it’ll never not be difficult. He knows, though, that sharing this with Charlie could help him. Every time someone tells their story, it gets easier for everyone else.

“I wasn’t careful enough. It was the morning after and you know, we’re both there in our boxers in the kitchen. He’s shirtless and I’m wearing his shirt and you know, he was like six and a half foot and built like an ox. It was clear that it wasn’t my shirt. So uh, we’re there in the kitchen and I’m making bacon and he’s got his arms around me, talking about going for another round and then I hear the door open and I… my heart stopped. I couldn’t breathe and then I, my Fa-, my Dad called out to me and I, I knew it was all over.”

“I’m so sorry, man,” Charlie says and he’s back to sounding awkward. Carlisle supposes that’s better than sounding devastated or angry.

“It’s okay,” Carlisle says and though his voice cracks, he means it. “It played out how I knew it would and in less than half an hour, I was on a bus back up here. I’ve had to move to a smaller apartment and pick up odd jobs to pay rent now that I uh have no support from him, but uh it’s easier. It’s easier today than it was yesterday and it’ll be easier tomorrow than it is today. Whether he comes around or not, I, I know that one day, I’ll be okay and it won’t matter.”

“Really?” Charlie asks.

Carlisle nods, “Really.” 

Charlie lets out a heavy breath, “We really fucked up their experiment, didn’t we?”

He laughs, “Yeah, yeah we really did. But uh, you know, stop me if I’m too forward, but you seem little a stand-up guy and if you do want to get into the queer community, I’d be happy to help you. Maybe even take you to dinner?”

“Oh,” Charlie says, his mouth forming a perfect circle. He stares at Carlisle for a few seconds before he nods, “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Great,” he says and he can’t stop the grin that grows on his face and nor does he want to. “You know the little diner near the law library? I hear they make a pretty good lasagne.”

Charlie smiles, “That sounds like a great idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> and then they had a probably really awkward conversation with the researchers and exercised their right to withdraw.  
> i felt really uncomfortable suggesting Carlisle Cullen would have like a thing for getting beard burn for some reason? It just feels weird which makes no sense because ive written him as a disaster twink in college, why is it the beard burn that im hung up on  
> also like the premise of this is two characters meet during a sex experiment (sexperiment?) and i manage to write no smut and instead they have an emotional ass conversation
> 
> i also definitely know that the lead up into the dramatic conversation could use some work but like i dont want to put this much effort into a twilight fic when its 2019. 
> 
> idk why anyone would have read this but if you did, thank you ahshfbs
> 
> come scream with me on [tumblr](https://listen-to-the-inner-walrus.tumblr.com/)  
> i guess


End file.
